The Continuing Saga of a Pegasus Galaxy Doctor
by EmonyJade
Summary: This was originally going to be a one chapter story, but I decided to make it into a series of independent short stories about the various injuries sustained while in the Pegasus Galaxy. Use to be A Tale of Killer Trees and Bunnies.
1. A Tale of Killer Trees and Bunnies

Ok, I haven't written anything in a long time, but for some reason, fanfiction is calling to me again. This is just a quick one a came up with one night. Hope you enjoy it. I like the banter between Rodney and Carson. Lots of fun. Please review if you read, I love to hear what other people think. Even if it's bad. Oh, and I don't own Stargate Atlantis or these characters….etc. etc.

---------

"Oww, be careful! It's not like I have an extra knee lying around I can use after you totally destroy this one, ya know." Rodney shrieked as he sat with his back leaning against the side of the puddle jumper, his leg stretched out, so Carson could clean the fresh cut on his knee.

"It's just a skinned knee, Rodney. Trust me, in my professional opinion, you'll live."

Rodney huffed and crossed is arms over his chest. "Well, I want a second opinion! I was attacked Carson, Attacked!"

"You tripped over a tree root. I'd hardly call that an attack. Maybe you should watch where you're going from now on instead of gawking at the tour guide."

"I wasn't gawking, I was observing the beauty of nature….then it attacked me, right out of nowhere!"

"Riiight… The tree jumped out of nowhere, chased you down like a scared animal and bit you on the knee." Carson looked up at his irate patient and smiled. Life was never boring with Rodney around. "Just like that time when the fluffy little bunny attacked you on P36-975?"

"The Rabbits on P36-975 are carnivorous, I tell you. I was just minding my own business and it leapt out and bit me! I could have gotten rabies"

Carson paused for a moment, shaking his head.

"You were trying to feed its baby a power bar. The Mother was just protecting its young."

"Yeah, yeah, believe what you want, Carson. I for one will never go back there again. I really need to just stay in my lab and never go into nature. If it's not the sun giving me a sunburn or some alien plant causing me a to breakout in hives, it's killer trees and bunnies! Are you almost done with your voodoo? I've got things to see, questions to ask…"

"Pretty tour guides to gawk at?" Carson finished, standing up and putting his medical pack away. "Ok, you're done."

"Finally." Rodney jumped up, rolled his pant leg back down and hurried off toward the guided tour they were having of the local green house.

"Oh, and Rodney…" Carson yelled after him. "Watch out for those Daisies. I hear they can be deadly this time of year."

Carson could hear his friend grumble something about comedic voodoo doctors as he hobbled off into the greenhouse. Carson had to chuckle. Nope, life as Dr. Rodney McKay's Medical Doctor was never boring.


	2. A Tale of A Metal Club

This was just going to be a fun short story, but I decided to make it into a series of short stories. They're just too much fun to write. This one involves Colonel Sheppard and a large metal club. Fun fun. As always, I don't own them… and so on and so forth. Enjoy.

Carson Sat behind his desk, enjoying the rare quiet of the infirmary. It was late afternoon and there had been only one patient all day. Carson loved his work, but having a day free of mortal injuries and life or death situations was a blessing. He was days behind in his paper work and a day like today was perfect for catching up at a nice leisurely pace.

Just as Carson was finishing up his last post mission heath report, Col. Sheppard walked into the infirmary, hold what looked like a bag of ice to his right temple. Concerned, Carson got up from his desk to inspect his friend's injury.

"So what happened to you?" Carson asked, while helping John onto an examination table. "I thought you were off world negotiating a trade agreement."

"I was. And just for the record, it went well. We have a deal that just needs to be finalized." The ice bag John was hold dripped slowly, leaving a small wet spot on the infirmary floor.

Carson slowly removed the bag to reveal a rather large lump on John's head. There was no open wound, but it had to hurt like the dickens. "Ok, so if the negotiations were a success, how did you manage the goose egg, Colonel?"

"Well, the Elder of the city carries this big metal club with him. I thought it was just for ceremonial purposes, but it turns out it had a very real use." John hopped off the table excitedly. "It's actually kind cool. You see, if the Elder likes the deal, he hits you in the head with the club." He swung an imaginary club in the air. "If he's not sure, but is leaning in the positive direction, he hits you in the shoulder. If he's leaning in the negative direction he hits you in the stomach and if he hates the idea all together, he swings back and hits you right between the…"

"I get the picture, Colonel." Carson stated dryly, stopping him in mid-imaginary golf swing. "That's just perfect. Next thing you'll tell me you have to fight the Elder's son in a cage match in order to finalize the deal. You'd think a culture this advanced would be beyond such violent customs. Bloody barbarians."

"It's not our place to question their customs." Sheppard Shrugged. "Besides, if there were a cage match, I'd let Ronon fight it. I'm sure he's better at those kinds of things."

Carson just rolled his eyes and finished his examination. "You'll be fine, Colonel. Just take it easy for the next couple of days, keep ice on it as much as you can, and for the love of all that's holy, don't let anyone hit you in the head again. I don't care if it's a custom or not. Doctor's orders."

"Not a problem, Doc." John stated happily, as he turned to leave the infirmary. At the doorway, he stopped and turned back to Carson. "Anyway, tomorrow it will be Elizabeth going over to meet the Elder and finalize the deal." John gave him one of his infamous, childlike smiles and left the room.

Carson sighed and headed back to his desk, visions of head injuries swimming through his head.


	3. A Tale of A Man and His Gun

Well, here's a new story for ya. Haven't had much time for writing, with x-mas coming and my recent job search and all, but here it is. Hope you enjoy. And as always, I don't own any of this. If I did, I wouldn't be looking for a job. Tee Hee.

Ronon stood up from the examination table and started to slowly make his way to the door. If he could slip past a Wraith hunting him, he certainly could slip past one doctor. If he was lucky, he could make it out the door before anyone was the wiser…

Luck was not with him.

"Ronon, where the hell do you think you're going?" came Carson's voice in his heavy Scottish Accent. "You're in no condition to be leaving this infirmary."

"I feel fine."

"Aye, you feel fine, but you're also bleeding all over my floor." Carson stated flatly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at the small pool of blood forming on the floor just under the large man.

Looking defeated, Ronon turned back around and parked himself back up on the examination table. The Doc may not have been the most imposing individual, but in his infirmary, not even an ex-runner had a chance of leaving before Carson was good and ready to let him leave.

"Alright then." Carson approached Ronon, examining his arm. "Besides the many scratches and bites, you also have what looks like a broken arm. I'll have to run an x-ray to be sure, but your forearm should not be at this off angle. You also have a few lacerations that will need stitches. How in the world did you manage all of this, Lad?"

Before Ronon could answer, Col. Sheppard entered the room.

"It was a dinosaur." John replied, leaning against the wall nearest his friend. "Or at least that's what it looked like to me. Not a very big one, but still."

"So you were attacked by a large reptile?" Carson asked, turning his attention back to Ronon.

"Actually, Ronon attacked him." John answered again, obviously amused by the situation.

Not sure if he had heard correctly, Carson looked first at John, then back at Ronon, bowing his head slightly. _Why does it not surprise me?_ He thought to himself.

"Why in the bloody hell would you attack a dinosaur?"

"It took my gun." Ronon stated, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"It took your gun." Carson stated back dryly.

"I like my gun." Ronon replied shrugging his shoulders, almost smiling at the thought. "I wasn't going to let that animal have it. Besides, it wasn't that big. I knew I could take it."

"You could take it, huh? You're lucky this arm wasn't your neck." Carson continued examining the wounds along Ronon's broken arm. "We'll get ya all patched up, but you'll be off active duty for at least a week. I just hope the reptile wasn't carrying any serious poisons or diseases."

"I'm fine."

"Aye, so you keep saying." Carson nodded, turning to one of his nurses. She had been watching the whole scene and already had antiseptic and bandages ready. "Just promise me you won't go chasing after anymore wildlife?"

"Can't make any promises, but I'll try." Ronon said in his normal, calm manner. He smiled at Carson and at that moment the doctor knew this probably won't be the last time he'd be patching up wounds caused when animals attack, or more accurately, when Ronon attacks. You can never underestimate the love of a man for his gun.


End file.
